


the old boys' club

by galen



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack, Gen, Secret Society, say no to fuckboys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2016-03-04
Packaged: 2018-05-24 14:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6157005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galen/pseuds/galen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know those all-male secret societies? Well Sakura joins one. For women.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the old boys' club

Sakura watched as Tsunade heaved another put-upon sigh, her mentor's fingers itching toward the empty sake bottle poorly hidden behind one of the towering sheafs of important diplomatic documents. She hoped it wouldn't leave a stain. Shizune AKA traitor had stealthily disappeared sometime between the daimyo's new trade agreement and Suna's defense proposal, though Sakura was more envious than angry. She huffed and returned to examining the day's scrolls. Friday evenings in the Hokage's office were a brutal combination of low-grade existential angst and papercuts. Where the fucking hell was Naruto if he wanted the job so badly?

Ninja senses tingling, the pink-haired kunoichi looked up to find Tsunade watching her. Flushing slightly, she realized that she had been cursing under her breath, and grunted an apology before resuming filing. Being a super ninja though, with super ninja senses, Sakura could still feel her mentor's eyes on her. She purposely ignored them, having learned early on that making eye contact with the Godaime in a mood was the fastest way to get sent on an alcohol run.

"Sakura."

Hmm.... did Kakashi really have to write his mission reports on take-out menus? If she looked closely, she could make out something about a lost warrior princess but the grease stains blurred the characters together. In contrast, Neji's delicate calligraphy on cream parchment looked like the gift of angels.

"Sakura."

The tone of Tsunade's voice gave her pause and she looked up only to be pinned down with a solemn gaze. "It's time." And with that, the Hokage rose dramatically from her desk and turned toward the window, beckoning with one hand.

Slowly, Sakura lowered the stack of papers she'd been holding. Time for what? A small frission of anxiety ran through her. A secret meeting? But then, the ANBU guards... a quick scan of surrounding chakra told her that they had apparently been dismissed for the time being. Tsunade was opening the window and now appeared to be waiting impatiently for her to follow. Sakura internally groaned at the thought of chasing her teacher around for hours as she ducked responsibilities under the guise of training.

No other choice, she leapt from the building. The night was clear and the full moon painted broad strokes of silver across the peaceful Konoha landscape. Warm golden lights streaked from open windows and the sound of the wind roared in her ears. Sakura smiled as she remembered her first stamina training sessions, which had left her gasping and wheezing. Now she and her mentor glided at speeds too fast for civilian eyes as their course veered toward the lesser populated areas where the training grounds were located.

After several minutes had passed in companiable silence, they arrived at Training Ground 70. Sakura had never trained here, given that she preferred areas with more diverse terrain on which to practice her skills and the tiny fact that this one was basically a miniature replicate of the Forest of Death. She didn't need any reminders. Tsunade didn't slow at all, pushing forward into the dense foliage until at last she stopped at the base of a massive tree. Or at least Sakura assumed she did. It was hard to tell - the leaves and brush were so dense that they filtered out most of the moonlight. A simple jutsu enhanced her vision well enough to pick out the details of the bark and roots of the great sequoia. Her keen ears picked up Tsunade's robes whistling as she performed a quick series of complicated hand seals until _a door in the shape of a uterus appeared in the bark_.

Being a fantastic and accomplished kunoichi, Sakura had seen many strange and horrifying things but she still couldn't help but feel her jaw drop.

"What the fu-

Tsunade turned to face her, amber eyes sharp and narrowed. "Before we enter, I must warn you." A pause and the tone of her voice became oddly formal. "What lies beyond this door has been hidden away since the founding of our village for reasons that you will soon come to understand. Do you swear to keep what you have seen and will see tonight secret?"

"Do you see it too? Because it looks a lot like-

"Answer first, questions later."

Sakura hesitated briefly, but she trusted the Godaime had a good reason for bringing her here. "I swear."

"Swear it on your collection of the limited edition signed Icha Icha ANBU series?"

"...WHAT?!"

Damn it, Jiraiya must have seen past her genjutsu after all. She had taken great pains to hide her identity with a combination of makeup, jutsu, and disguises but she supposed Jiraiya wasn't a spymaster for nothing. Still, it was an oddly specific request and her cheeks flushed with mortification at the knowledge that her guilty pleasure had been discovered.

"Swear it!"

"I swear," Sakura repeated, though more glumly this time.

A seal appeared and glowed on the uterus. Sakura could feel foreign chakra burning its way onto her tongue before it dissipated. The door swung open to reveal a few winding wooden slats trailing upwards toward faint light and sound. Tsunade quickly stepped in and Sakura followed mutely, mind still reeling with the need to inflict gratuitious violence on Jiraiya for selling her out. When they reached the top step, Sakura was immediately assaulted by a familiar force.

"FOREHEAD! What took you so long?" Ino demanded.

Sakura could smell the alcohol on her breath and pushed her best friend-rival-pig off. When she stopped to look around, her hands automatically rose to dispel the genjutsu. Because it was glorious. Tall wooden beams wreathed in ivy supported the high ceiling in the vast, circular room. Scores of women were fanned out across the space, some on the plush divans and others settled comfortably on the carpet in front of the roaring fire. Hinata, Tenten, and an Uchiha girl Sakura didn't recognize were engaged in intense conversation at one of the tables, gesturing to something she couldn't see. Inuzuka Hana and Anko were at the open bar busy serving patrons with chakra-enhanced tricks. It was no surprise to see that Tsunade had already cornered a spot next to where Shizune AKA traitor was quickly downing a bright magenta drink. Two council elders in a semi-enclosed nook were tittering madly over what looked suspiciously like Icha Icha ANBU: Steamy Mist Mission, not that Sakura would know. Servers bearing platters of hor d'ouveres skillfully maneuvered about the groups of women. It was as though she had stepped into some tasteful fantasy bacchanalia overflowing with food and wine and, oh god, were those tiny pastel macarons on that platter? That settled it. This wasn't a genjutsu. Sakura was dead. She'd mis-timed a step on the run over and cracked her head open on the way down.

Ino's voice brought her back to reality. "You finally made it!" she screeched. "This is great. You're going to love it here."

Sakura scowled. "I see that, pig. What is this place?"

Ino adopted a long-suffering expression and began to explain in the same slow matter-of-fact tone she used when speaking to particularly dim-witted genin in her flower arrangement lessons. "This is Konoha's secret women's society. In case you haven't noticed while you've been gaping around like a open-mouthed idio- ow! damn it, forehead - all the members here are women. It was started by someone's great great great grandmother at the founding of the village after she got tired of all the men having pissing contests instead of council meetings and she wanted to really get shit done. Though historically more political in nature, it's mostly social now. Still really useful for making connections though. And the amenities are amazing."

That part seemed to be true enough. Clan members mingled freely without the levels of decorum that would have been required had they encountered one another in daily life. Sakura snagged a slice of prosciutto-wrapped melon from a passing server and chewed thoughtfully, mulling over what she had just learned.

"So can anyone join?"

"Depends," Ino replied breezily. "You have to be at least jonin-level as a kunoichi or magistrate for civilians. Tsunade vouched for you though so you were a shoo-in. Price of admission is the seal and sometimes an embarrassing fact, like your secret literary porn collection or something."

Sakura sputtered indignantly as her best friend guided her toward the center of the room where cooing admirers were clustered around a pile of cute animal summons.

"The food's always good. And the bathroom has free tampons!" Ino continued blithely.

Sakura blinked and reflexively tried to dispel the genjutsu again before she caught herself.

"Right then," she said stubbornly, refusing to acknowledge Ino's howling laughter. "So the guys definitely don't know about this."

"Right you are," a smooth voice interjected. She looked down to see Kurenai smiling at her from the pen, where she was cuddling a baby tiger (Sakura's brain imploded a bit at the cuteness). "This is a fuckboy-free zone." With that, the genjutsu mistress pointed a red manicured nail to a large banner titled **RULES** hanging along the wall, of which number four clearly read **SAY NO TO FUCKBOYS**. There were also small targets lined up underneath, one of which was a damaged mess that suspiciously resembled Sasuke. Wait, no. She could make out the outline of chicken butt hair. It was definitely Sasuke.

That was the last straw. Sakura opened her mouth but closed it when no words came out. On her eighth try, she finally gathered herself enough to speak.

"Ino-pig," she croaked out, reaching slowly toward the other girl for support. "I swear to guard the knowledge that I have gained today until my death and beyond."

Weakly, she flagged down a passing server to grab the entire platter of rosewater gelato. And, well, if tomorrow she were to request Tsunade for a week-long leave of absence to a classified location, that would technically be true.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing except for riding the fiction in fanfiction hard. Thoughts?


End file.
